


No Elf Left Behind

by RinzlersGhost



Series: Tumblr Requests [5]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Smut, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-20 17:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30008673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinzlersGhost/pseuds/RinzlersGhost
Summary: You're a warrior elf from Lorien who has been banished from the Galadhrim military and found some solace in Imladris.An anon on Tumblr asked for Heavy Angst and a Happy Ending with Lindir. It wasn't supposed to be this long but I got carried away. Lindir x Gender Neutral Reader.Celeborn is 100% an asshole.
Relationships: Lindir (Tolkien)/Reader
Series: Tumblr Requests [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2190627
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Meleth-nin - My love  
> Naethen - I'm sorry  
> Mae tollen na mar - Welcome home  
> Hanar-nin - My brother  
> Caun-nin - My commander  
> Gwanur/gwanur-nin - Kin/my kin  
> Tirn - Guardian  
> Hir - Lord

You unsheathed your blade, testing its mettle with a few terse swings before sheathing it again. You checked every arrow among your quiver, ensuring every point was sharpened to perfection and made sure that your bow had no cracks along it.

“You act like we’re going to war.” Nestadion remarked, watching you check and recheck your ration packs in your saddlebags, checking your saddle to make sure it was intact. In fact, you did the same to the other three horses in waiting.

“We’ll be gone for a long time.” You replied.

“This is a courtesy. Think of it as a vacation. When was the last time you were out of Imladris?” Nestadion remarked. “Hir Elrond gave us permission to cross the mountains and into Lorien on the way to Minas Tirith. Eager to see Legandir again?” You frowned. The dark-haired ellon in question was in fact your brother and not some lover like your fellow warden assumed.

“You know my heart belongs to another.” You murmured lowly. “Legandir is my brother, Nestadion. My heart is here, in Imladris.”

“Somewhere.” Nestadion muttered. You cast him a slight side eye, but said nothing more of the matter. The issue was that being a marchwarden, you didn’t wear much if any jewelry out of necessity of it being a burden in the field. Not only was Nestadion aware of that, so was your partner. Which was why the practical courting gift was a pair of ear cuffs, specially commissioned. You only wore them in the field; you had the ring for days where you weren’t, but those days were few and far in between.

“I take it that you’ve spent nothing less than all this time making sure that we’re ready to leave.” Erestor remarked softly.

“You’re not carrying a blade?” You asked.

“I’ll never tell all my secrets.” Erestor replied, checking the saddle himself before swinging himself up gracefully. “Y/N.”

“Erestor.” You, however, gave his fellow traveling companion a boost to the back of his horse. If Nestadion noticed it, he wasn’t commenting. You fitted the stirrups to Lindir’s legs, your touch lingering on the other side where you were hidden from Nestadion. He nearly swatted for it but you ducked before it could connect, glancing up mischievously and grinning at him.

“Go on.” Lindir murmured. “ _ Im maer: I’m fine.” _ Still you stayed for a moment longer, lips grazing across his caught hand, pressing a kiss to the silver band around his index finger. Erestor pretended not to notice you there, simply clearing his throat. 

“If all things are sorted, we ought to get a move on.” You took that as a command to move out, mounting your horse and following Erestor out. The paths out of Imladris were relatively safe. You could count the hidden marchwardens, who were not visible to the naked human eye, but their position was still known to you.

“You never stop working, do you?” Erestor remarked.

“I’ll pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“You aren’t taking this an opportunity to relax?” Lindir asked.

“I don’t see how I can. I’m their commander. This isn’t a luxurious journey.” You replied. His face went a little pale and you sighed, taking a moment to pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. “You two are emissaries for Hir Elrond, to deliver a message to the Steward of Gondor in Minas Tirith. We are wardens, called off duty on opposite sides of this realm because we are captains.”

“Elrond wants people he can trust.” Erestor murmured. “Wardens who have seen combat and know how to fight, to command, to lead. Have no fear, Lindir. You are in good hands.”

_ Meleth-nin. _ You willed the words to reach him.  _ Naethen. _ Lindir nodded briefly, shooting you a glance before turning back to follow Erestor.

* * *

No more was said of the matter. It would still take days to reach Lorien and even longer than that to reach Minas Tirith. Still it was nice to come home, if you could ignore the fact that Lord Celeborn was the reason you had moved to Imladris in the first place. After all, you were unfit to be a marchwarden. You bit your tongue when your company greeted them, asking permission to stay the night and recuperate for a moment among safety. Erestor primarily did most of the talking, and for that you were grateful.

“My kin.” Legandir pressed his hand to his chest.  _ “Mae tollen na mar.” _

_ “Hanar-nin.” _ You returned the gesture.

“Y/N, it’s good to see you again.” Lady Galadriel remarked. “I trust Imladris has been to your liking? Many have found the Valley to be suited to their liking. I would dare even venture that many who on loan to the Lord of Imladris find it a home.”

“I am not on loan to Hir Elrond. He is  _ caun-nin _ , my commander.” You replied, voice as cold as steel.

“You?” Celeborn asked. “He puts his faith in you? You are reckless! Insubordinate! Unwilling to be tempered!” Your lips curled back into a snarl.

“And a commander of his wardens regardless!” Your tone of voice completely shut down Celeborn’s spouting.

_ “Gwanur.” _ Legandir warned quietly. 

“No. I have sat here and let you tell me what I am for decades. Here’s what I am-- a successful marchwarden captain who manages the Southern borders of Imladris. I work in tandem with Commander Nestadion of the Northern borders,” You made a gesture to the ellon behind you, “ _ Tirn _ Gildor and his team of wandering guardians, who patrol the East and West borders of Imladris. I answer to  _ Caun-nin _ Elrond, not to you. You don’t own me, and this is  _ not _ my home.” You spat, turning your back and leaving.

“That went well.” Galadriel murmured.

“That was tame.” Lindir remarked. All eyes turned on him and he shrugged. “I hear things in the Valley.”

“You knew about this?” Nestadion asked. Lindir blinked. “How? You’re never around Y/N.” Erestor gave him a look, as if, really? Nestadion, commander of the Northern borders, was  _ that  _ oblivious to it? Legandir rolled his eyes. It was even obvious to him, and he had known that you and Lindir were courting.

“Mm.” Erestor shook his head. He couldn’t count the number of times he had caught you and Lindir cozied up in the libraries. You usually let Lindir read to you and oftentimes fell asleep in his lap listening to him. “And you have the nerve to tell them that they work too much. You work so much you’re oblivious to the rest of the world.” Legandir received his orders to take your company into a shared talan for the night, and sought you out afterwards. You were on the borders of Caras Galadhon.

“Why did you stop here, if you knew it was going to be like this?” Legandir asked, taking a seat beside you. 

“Our company could use some rest not on the road.” You replied. “Lorien is safe. We have a long journey to make. This was the best place to make that stop.”

“You did well.” Legandir murmured. “You held yourself in check. You made your point and you walked away. There’s something to be said for that. Would you prefer to go train and get it out instead?” You eyed him warily. He offered you his hand, and you took it, pulling each other to your feet. 

“How are you?” Legandir shrugged.

“The same as usual.”

“Oh? Nothing new to report? No... partners?” You teased.

“Ah... you know that my duty to the Lord and Lady doesn’t allow for much time for ah... courting. Yet you’ve still managed to snag an ellon. Lindir seems nice, quiet. Not really the kind of person I thought you would go for.”

“He’s sweet.” You murmured. “He listens, and he cares. He’s a very lovely ellon.” You followed Legandir to the training fields, both of you picking up a training staff, regardless of the sword on your hips. The wooden staffs cracked against each other as the two of you exchanged blows relentlessly, drawing some attention, but neither one of you paying attention, solely focused on each other. Some of your Galadhrim training peeked through in your stances and those Legandir knew how to counter. It was again, your ruthless approach to disarming your opponent-- when the staff cracked and shattered and Legandir landed on his back, the point of your staff pressing hard into the hollow of his throat that he raised his hands in surrender.

“ _ Gwanur _ .” Legandir repeated the word quietly. You sucked in a breath, releasing your pressure on him.

“ _ Naethen.” _ You murmured, pulling him to his feet, pulling him into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you.” Legandir replied quietly. “Come, you must be tired and hungry.” 

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not go in there.” You hesitated at the halls of the Galadhrim. Legandir put his hand on your shoulder, vanishing for a moment before coming back out with two portioned bowls of meat and rice. The two of you sat on the porch of the shared talan.

“It’s not home is it?” Legandir finally asked. “It’s never been anything to you but bitter and hostile. In Imladris, you have freedom.”

“In Imladris, I have love. Freedom, yes,  _ Hir  _ Elrond has given me that much, but I found love and I adore that love.” You breathed. “It is why I go to the Southern borders, to make sure that our realm stays safe and stays free.”

“You make an honorable captain.” Legandir murmured. 

“Thank you.” You finished your meal in silence, and Legandir took the bowl from you.

“Get some sleep. I have a feeling it is much needed.” You gave him a weak smile.  _ “Gwanur.” _ He gathered you to him, pressing his head against yours. “You will always be my kin.”

“And you will always be my brother.” You whispered. “Good luck.” Legandir only smiled.

“Thanks, I’ll need it.” With that, he left and you slipped inside, washing up and slipping into the last empty cot.

* * *

Morning came far too early, but it was what your duty commanded, and you were leading your company out of Lorien and following the river Anduin for the rest of your journey, tireless days and nights on horseback. You were never ever so grateful to see a city in your life. You had visited Minas Tirith but that was a long time ago. You were grateful to have a nice bed over being on horseback and while Lindir and Erestor were conducting their business with the Steward of Gondor and Nestadion was out exploring the city, you were pleasantly out like a light, sprawled over the bed with little care to actually unarm yourself.

What did wake you was a hand on your sword. Lindir yelped when your hand shot out and encircled his wrist, pulling him in close. “Don’t. Touch.” You growled.

“I’m sorry,  _ meleth _ .” He whispered. “You just looked so uncomfortable.” You shook away the sleep, opening your eyes.

“Lindir.” You murmured softly.  _ “Naethen. _ ” You shook your head, letting go of his wrist, leaning up for a moment to brush your cheek against his, but no more. “Leave it be, please.”

“You expect danger even here?” He asked quietly.

“Too much effort to get up.” You replied.

“I have handled Lord Elrond’s armor and weapons. I can handle yours.” You sank back into the bed and he received no more resistance from you as he untied the belt, sliding it out from under you, placing the sword on the ground. Your quiver came next, followed by your bow, and when he placed his hand on your cheek, you nursed it to your shoulder, sleep coming more easily in his presence. To Lindir’s dismay, you were woken for dinner by your fellow warden.

“So you’ve managed to coax Y/N out of their weapons.” Nestadion chuckled. You growled, showing teeth at Nestadion’s loud entrance. Lindir frowned.

“I’m adept at handling  _ Hir _ Elrond’s armor and sword. I think I can manage Y/N’s weapons just fine.”

“Too bad you can’t actually wield them. There’s a reason why they’re so on guard on all the time. Hey, no!” You had withdrawn a dagger from your boot and had your hand drawn back, getting ready to throw it. “No, no, no!” Whichever direction he moved, you moved with him, despite your eyes being closed. Nestadion had the keener eyesight; you had keener hearing.

“Shut up, Nestadion. I’m tired.”

“Did arguing with  _ Hir _ Celeborn wear you out?” Nestadion remarked.

“Mind your business.” You snarled out.

“Or what? You’ll cut my tongue out?”

“Don’t tempt me.” 

“Oh, I’m quaking.” Nestadion teased.

“Fuck you.” You finally muttered. “And fuck off. I was enjoying my company.”

“Your company? The minstrel? Who was sitting beside you while you were sleeping?”

“That minstrel has a name, Nestadion.” You growled, finally opening your eyes. “His name is Lindir, and you’ll start using it or I’ll beat it into you.”

“You’re god-awful protective.”

“Watch your oaths!” Erestor remarked. “Also Nestadion, for having the keenest eyes in the realm, you certainly are quite oblivious.”

“How rude.” Erestor glanced to you and rolled his eyes.

“How do you put up with him?”

“We’re on opposite sides of the border.” You replied. “I don’t have to, thank the...”

“Ahem.” Erestor cleared his throat.

“... Stars.” You finished. You sheathed the dagger back into the side of your boot. “How was your business?” Erestor pulled a scroll from between the folds of his robes.

“We have our answer. I have one scroll, Lindir, the other. For Lord Elrond’s eyes only. What is your reply to that? Move out in the morning?”

“One day, two nights respite. No more than that. I don’t want it to get around that we’re here.” You murmured. “I’m tired. Lorien was... exhausting.”

“It takes a lot to stand up to the Lord of the Realm.” Erestor murmured.

“That’s... not why. I was raised in the Galadhrim. I... almost killed one of them in a patrol. So I was cast out collectively, by my own people.”

“What happened?” Nestadion asked.

“I will not leave warriors behind. They were cutting them loose left and right, unprepared, untrained. They were supposed to be in teams. I challenged the captain, and I won. He’s not Galadhrim anymore, and neither am I. He was  _ wrong. _ I carried my patrol to safety with him on my shoulders, threw him to Celeborn’s feet and told him of his crimes. I wasn’t expecting a reward.”

“What did Celeborn do?” Erestor asked. You grit your teeth then, clutching your shoulder. “You can never rejoin the Galadhrim, can you?”

“I am marked. You cannot convince me it was not by his order. Galadhrim warriors broke down the door to my brother’s talan and held him down when he tried to help me, cutting the mark to skin. It didn’t take much for Legandir to convince me to leave. I was supposed to be carrying letters to the rulers of the realms detailing my crimes, but my greenhorns, the unseasoned warriors intercepted them and were court-martialed according to Legandir. If Lord Elrond didn’t take me under his wings, I would have continued North to the Greenwood. Thankfully, he was understanding of the situation.”

“And now you’re commander of the marchwardens of Imladris.” Erestor murmured. “I don’t believe his trust is misplaced.”

“I found he was a little less than pleased about the way the situation was handled.” You replied quietly. “But now that that story is out there, I’d like some blessed peace. Go eat dinner. Leave me alone.” You gestured, sinking back into the bed. Erestor gave you a curt nod and all but hauled Nestadion out, much to his protests about why Lindir wasn’t coming with them.

“ _ Naethen. _ ” Lindir murmured. “You’ve always been curt about why you left Lorien but I never imagined...”

_ “Meleth-nin.” _ You took his hand in your own. “No use talking about it now. The truth is out. If you don’t want... if you don’t want there to be an us anymore, I understand.”

“You did what was right.” Lindir cupped your cheeks in both his hands. “And I know you’d do it again. You do what is right for you to protect our people... to protect people like me.” He murmured. “I am not ashamed of you.” You blinked. His answer wasn’t the one you’d come to expect. “And you shouldn’t be ashamed of yourself.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, gentle as all his kisses were, but something soft, something slow, something desperately intimate, needing to tell you, needing to show you that he wasn’t going anywhere because of something that had happened in your past. When he finally let go, you were breathless. “Come to dinner with me?” Lindir asked. You nodded, finally getting up to wash up in the small bathroom, changing into fresh clothes. You looked at your weapons but decided against them, simply taking Lindir’s offered arm and walking in step with him as he told you the story about how this afternoon had gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caun-nin - My commander  
> Hir - Lord  
> Meleth - Love

Before long, Lindir had you smiling as he regaled you, and you were more than content to lean on his shoulder as the two of you found your way to the dining hall and took the last two places available to you.

“So this is Y/N. Ecthelion, Steward of Gondor. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” You greeted the human cordially.

“I’m glad you were well rested enough to join us.”

“Thank you for hosting us.” You replied. “I’ve been to Minas Tirith before but have never made it to the top. It’s quite impressive.”

“Ah, you are most welcome here.” Ecthelion replied with a smile, his eyes crinkling in happiness. “Your... your...” He glanced at Erestor. “Does that make you a commander?”

“Erestor and Lindir would be both emissaries in this instance.” You replied.

“Your emissaries have high praise for you and your fellow warden. I understand this message was of great importance and so the reply I’m sending back is as well.” Ecthelion murmured, gesturing for servants to bring your both full plates. “I must warn you-- there have been reports of brigand thieves along the North South Road. If you choose to travel that way, be wary. So far we have seen nothing ourselves, but they may find a small patrol of four to be easy pickings.”

“We carry nothing of value.” Erestor replied. “Except the reply.”

“A reply that cannot make its way into the wrong hands.” Ecthelion confirmed.

“I understand.” You murmured. “We do not intend to stay long-- a day, another night more while it is safe to rest.”

“Understood.” You were saved from more conversation by the plate of food in front of you, nibbling along as the others did. Lindir slipped his hand into yours under the table, squeezing lightly. You couldn’t help the smile, intertwining your fingers with his own. For a moment, silence descended on the table, but then, as always, an over exuberant Nestadion broke that silence.

“What are you so happy about? Certainly in a better mood than you were half an hour ago.”

“Nestadion, either use your keenest of all Imladris eyesight, or shut up.” Erestor remarked.

“You know something.”

“Oh? I thought it was obvious.” Ecthelion murmured. “Or perhaps my ideas of Elvish traditions are outdated.”

“No, no, you’re right on point.” You replied. “Nestadion is just oblivious, for once in his life.” He made a face at you, as if asking what? You simply pointed to Lindir beside you, kissing his hand lightly.

“WHAT!? Really?! Since when?!”

“We started courting uh... eighteen years ago? Only a select few know.” You murmured.

“Why would you hide it?”

“I’m not exactly known for being the kindest person in the world.” You replied. “I’m bold and brash and downright rude, and Lindir is remarkably none of those things, which makes our pairing odd... but wonderful.” 

“Ew.” Erestor kicked Nestadion under the table. “OW!”

“Hm.” That was the most satisfied sound you’d ever heard from Erestor, who looked rather pleased with himself that his aim was still quite on point. 

“Well, now you know. Keep your mouth shut about it.”

“What is so wrong with telling people you have a partner? I’d be crowing.” Nestadion remarked, rubbing his leg.

“I know. And if you crow about mine, I’ll...”

“Court-martial me?” Nestadion asked.

“Just keep it to yourself before I get creative.” You replied.

“Yes,  _ caun-nin. _ ”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You have too many rules. No wonder everybody thought you and Erestor were...” Erestor leaned back again.

“Don’t, Nestadion. I’m warning you now. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Erestor growled. “I know Y/N has a knife. Oh, and come to think of it,” He picked up his dinner knife. “So do I. That’s two for them now.”

“It seems I am outnumbered.” Nestadion finished up his dinner, taking his leave.

“Do you think he’s angry?” Erestor asked.

“Doubtful. It’s Nestadion. He’s happy about everything.” You murmured. “I will court-martial him if I need to. I shouldn’t have to. He’ll settle.” You stifled a yawn, finishing your meal and returning to the shared room, sinking back into bed. With a full stomach, you were asleep almost instantly, taking in the solace of an empty room. Even when Lindir actually joined you, you did little more than roll to the side to give him room to settle, before rolling back over and burying your face in his hair, your arm pulling him flush against you, nuzzling through the hair to press your nose against his neck as he squeaked and squirmed in your arms.

Erestor only shook his head. Lindir had gotten himself into that situation. He certainly wasn’t going to get him out. Eventually everyone settled down for the night, sleeping well into the morning. You were up before everyone else, pressing a soft kiss to Lindir’s cheek and making your way outside, into the city. It wasn’t quite like anywhere you had ever been before. The white walls of Minas Tirith towered high above the ground. It was astonishing that it had been built and withstood the tests of time.

“You seem troubled.” Nestadion commented softly. “I won’t tell.”

“I know you won’t.” You replied. “You’re just... you’re a very charming individual, Nestadion. You know how to work an audience. But you’re one of the best fighters Imladris has.”

“Unusual of you to butter me up.” He remarked, leaning on the railing and looking out over the vast expanse.

“I would prefer more that my story does not travel.”

“That’s personal.” Nestadion turned to you. “I wouldn’t spread that. Elves are a community. Imladris is a community. You’re courting Lindir? They would celebrate that with you. I don’t mean to be... intrusive, but it doesn’t seem to me like you had anything like community in Lorien.”

“I did... once. And then I lost it.”

“We won’t do that here.” Nestadion murmured. “You are in the position you are in because you earned it, because  _ Hir _ Elrond trusts you, because we trust you.”

“I... do not know that I can trust again.”

“You trust Lindir.”

“Lindir.” You quieted for a moment. You had thrown your heart out for Lindir. He had never given you any reason not to trust him. For all that you had known him, he was the exact same ellon in courting that he was in his day to day life; although, at times he could be frustrated and petty. Most of the time, if Lindir was upset, he was upset to the point of tears and could only be calmed down with time alone, which, you had almost always accepted, unless he came to you, in which case, that time alone was accompanied by you holding him or braiding his hair. “Lindir.” You set out with that thought in mind, finding him wandering through the marketplace. You slipped your arm through his.

_ “Meleth?” _ He asked quietly. You walked with him for a while in silence. “Are you alright?”

“Can I... braid your hair?” Lindir tipped his head to the side. “I need... to have you close to me.” He nodded, finding a secluded courtyard and folding himself to the ground, letting you sit behind him and begin to weave braids into his hair.

The laughter of children spilled into the marketplace, making Lindir open his eyes as a gaggle of small children ran by, placing a twisted flower crown in his lap. You blinked as the child dashed away, rejoining their friends. You let the braids fall apart, placing the flower crown on his head, weaving strands of his hair in between the crown, tying it together in the back.

“Did you?” Lindir touched the flowers gently. You leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. “Watch the... oh, you don’t have them on.”

“I took them off before bed last night.” You murmured quietly, nuzzling his cheek.

“You’re not usually the quiet one.” Lindir pressed his hand to your cheek. “Did something happen?”

“I was just speaking with Nestadion.”

“Is he being a prat?” 

“No. He just brought up some good points. And I needed to stay close to you. Lindir, I hope you know... I trust you.” He knew you couldn’t have meant it lightly, given your issues with community. You were pretty much a lone wolf, but you had taken a shine to him. You were everything he wasn’t and he was everything you weren’t, and yet somehow the two of you fit together.

“I will not betray it.” Lindir murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You hadn’t told him that you loved him, though you suspected that you did. It was just hard for you to force the words out. The closest thing you ever came to telling him that you loved him was telling him that you adored him, which you did, but that couldn’t hardly describe the feeling that swelled inside you when you finally got to see him after a long patrol. That wasn’t adoration, no; that was love. Even now the feeling you got in your chest hearing him tell you that he would not betray your trust had to be love. You just couldn’t get the words out, and there was no use trying to force it at this point. You gave up trying, slumping against his back with a sigh. 

“Still exhausted?” He asked quietly.

“When am I not?” You replied. “I got pulled off patrol to make this journey and Nestadion treats it like a vacation; meanwhile you and Erestor both are carrying two parts of a whole message that I would rather be in  _ Hir  _ Elrond’s hands sooner than later. I’m tired of being on horseback. I just want to go home.”

“We should take the North-South Road to Tharbad and follow the Bruinen home.” Lindir murmured.

“Yes,” You breathed. “It seems to be the quickest option, but there is the threat of the brigand thieves.”

“I don’t want you to have to go through Lorien again.” 

“I don’t want to go through Lorien again, but if it’s for the safety of my company, I will. It is perhaps the safest option.”

“For us... but not for you.”

“Legandir could take you through. I would go around.”

“Oh, discussing travel routes are we?” Nestadion and Erestor finally joined you both.

“The North-South Road to the Bruinen would be the quickest route. Back through Lorien is the safest. I would have to go around, but Legandir could take you through. It’s more mountainous travel back to Imladris, but the only other option is going around the mountains.” You presented the options carefully. 

“As important as the message is, do we take the quicker route and risk brigands?” Erestor asked. “Lindir is the only one unarmed. There’s three of us. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“I have no qualms with battle.” You replied. “If you think that quicker is the best route, then I will follow you. This is not my decision. It’s yours, Erestor. The facts have been presented. What is your decision?” You deferred to Erestor. His mind was brilliant.

“Honestly? I don’t even know what Elrond sent, nor what the reply was. Everything has been presented, but it was not discussed with us. It’s probably urgent.”

“Then we take the quicker route.” You finished the discussion. “And you take this.” You pressed your dagger, wrapped in a makeshift sheath into Lindir’s lap. “I will not have you go unarmed.”

“I don’t even know how to...” 

“I don’t care, Lindir. I can’t lose you.” You murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek and leaving, likely to check your weapons.

“That was...” Erestor started.

“Touching.” Nestadion finished. All three of them stared at your retreating back but you just made your way back to your room, yes, to check your weapons. Route was decided then; you would likely leave in the middle of the night to prevent your going from being explicitly known. Something wasn’t sitting right with you, and you didn’t know if it was internal conflict or your elven senses ticking off at an external concern. Either way, you were belting your sword around your waist and checking the mettle of all your weapons when the others finally reached you.

“Get some rest.” Erestor ordered. “We’ll move out in the night.” You nodded to him, doing as he ordered, though sleep did not come easily and ended far too soon. You moved in the night, putting on your ear cuffs and creeping silently down to the stables, leading out your horses to the gates where the others were waiting, mounting and heading out in the night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hest - Captain  
> Noro - Run  
> Mitho orch - Go kiss an orc  
> Ce uchand - You are stupid  
> Gwador-nin - My sworn brother  
> Mellyn-nin - My friends  
> Boe enni nestron - I need a healer  
> Tolo - Come  
> Meleth-nin - My love  
> Iesten - Please  
> Le melin - I love you

The road seemed quiet, as was expected for the time you moved out at. You were a quiet bunch, simply urging your horses onto the paths with little to say to each other. As such, you reached Tharbad in record time, but still... your senses were on alert. There were the makings of small camps that had been hidden along the Bruinen, where the water was shallow and with a slow current.

“ _ Hest.” _ You needed no other word. Nestadion checked his sword as the four of you veered off the path and began to follow the Bruinen north. You didn’t see anyone for days, but there this sinking lingering feeling that you were being watched, and being followed, but you couldn’t see anyone anywhere, and the tracks were stale.

Night was upon you and you kept moving, ever on alert. The air was thick with mist and tension spilt over like the Bruinen on the shore. And then you heard it, the thick whistle, the arrow’s song. “Lindir, move!” But your call came too late and you watched in agony as Nestadion put himself between the arrow and its target, knocking him from his horse with the impact.  _ “Noro! RUN!” _ You ordered. But before they could get away, they were both blocked in. Lindir’s horse reared back and you took the opportunity to knock off two riders, firing your marks in rapid succession. Lindir scrambled to stay mounted to his horse and Erestor drew his blade, cutting one down and spurring his mount after the other. You looked to the dead men on the ground. None of them were archers; your long range assailant was still out there. Another shot whistled by, striking Lindir’s horse, and you turned, nocking your arrow and sending it back the way those had come, rewarded with the cry of pain somewhere in the mist. When you turned, Lindir had been thrown from his horse and was motionless on the ground, arm bent at an odd angle that was sure to be broken. You took the risk to dismount, checking on him, since Nestadion was wincing but sitting up. Erestor returned shortly, his blade sheathed. 

“Problem taken care of.”

“Lindir is wounded.” You murmured.

“He’s bleeding.” Erestor grimaced. The thin veil of moonlight did not do wonders for Lindir now as it once had. Blood was beginning to pool in his hair, staining it darkly. “He needs healers, soon, or it’s going to be bad.”

“Go.” You whispered. “Both of you, go. Nestadion?”

“I can still fight!”

“Unwise.” Erestor murmured.

“No, this mission depends on you two. Nestadion and I will fend them off.” You replied, gathering Lindir in your arms and hoisting him in front of Erestor. “ _ Suil vain: Fair winds.” _ You smacked the back of his horse, sending him out into the night. You drew your sword. “We know you’re out there. Come fight us like men!” You growled.

“Elves inciting a fight? My, what has this world come to?”

“If I recall, you attacked us first.” You pulled Nestadion to his feet. “I may not have started this fight, but you can be  _ damn _ well sure I’ll finish it.”

“Oh?” Amidst the thick mist, you felt your breath falter, your vision blurring in and out. “Seems to me to be the other way around. We started this fight  _ and we’ll finish it.” _ Poison, you thought numbly. In the mist, you never would have been able to see it, or apparently smell it. It crawled up your throat and made you numb as your arms hung uselessly at your sides, the blade falling from your hand. You felt your cheek make impact with the ground before all else went dark.

When you did wake, your hands and feet were bound behind your back. Nestadion had apparently tried to fight, because there was another arrow sticking out of him and his breaths came in sharp shallow pants. He definitely wasn’t awake. That either marked another archer or perhaps the one you had shot, you hadn’t killed. Indeed, that was the case, because when he saw you awake, he delivered a daming backhand across your face, splitting your lip open and breaking your nose. Blood streamed down your chin, dripping down into the dirt beneath you.

“Not so smart now, are you?” You spit in his face, spraying blood all over him. “Ugh.” He jumped back, grimacing as he held his injured side.

“Bet you were smarting when you fell out of your tree.” You muttered.

“Dog!” He hissed.

“Coward.” You replied.

“This one isn’t going to break like the other one.” He gestured his comrades over, a total of four. “What’s in the scroll, elf?”

“I don’t know.” You replied. One of the men folded their arms across their body.

“We’ll see if pain loosens your lips. Get them.” You were dragged from the tent to the open plateau, your hands and knees tied to a post in front of you.

“What’s in the scroll?”

“ _ Mitho orch!”  _ You snarled. Something bit into the flesh of your back, the resounding crack almost deafening in your ears. A whip. Pain seared across your skin, blood not even welling yet at the deepness of the cut. But you just grit your teeth and endured the lashing. Your mark stung more with every lash, and at the end of it, tears were streaming down your face but you would not give in.

“What’s. In. The. Scroll?”

_ “Ce uchand!” _ You spat in his face again. “I tell you. I do not know.” You growled.

“Let them sit. Let the wounds fester overnight. We will try again in the morning.” You caught sight of the little white scroll sealed with magic. It must have fallen off of Lindir when he fell. You weren’t given the option of returning to the tent, as they tightened the knots of your binding and set a guard on watch. So you endured it. For now, Nestadion’s breathing hadn’t changed, and you could focus on that. 

Little did you know that you had actually dozed off when you felt yourself being dragged again. Morning had come. “What’s in the scroll?”

“You keep repeating this question like you think I have an answer. What one did you get out of him? Hm?”

“He knows nothing. But you are his commander. Commanders know all the secrets.”

“Indeed they do.”  _ You’re just looking at the wrong one, _ you thought. “I might be his commander, but I am just a marchwarden. I know nothing.”

“You will talk or we will make you talk. It’s as simple as that.” Your archer assailant seemed to be the leader of the group.

“Good luck with that. I’ve suffered worse at the hands of my own kind. Piss off.” A hand knotted in your hair and shoved you face down among the waters of the Bruinen. At first, it only amused you, but clearly these humans had no intent of showing any kind of mercy and you truly realized the situation you were in was dire. You couldn’t count how many times your head went under the water, but you could feel your consciousness ebbing away the longer it went on. With your hands tied behind your back again, you couldn’t resist. Could it be that you would die here? No! You had a mission to complete! That was the last thought on your mind as you lost consciousness. 

Surely they had gone all day. It was night again by the time you awoke. The fires were out. You could hear the men snoring, even the guard on his watch. You gritted your teeth and dislocated your marked shoulder, slipping your hands from the ropes and untying your legs. They may have taken your weapons, but they had failed to notice the ear cuffs as little more than elven decoration and so you took them off, unsheathing them to reveal a razor sharp curved elvish steel blade no more than three inches in length, and crept outside, slitting the guard’s throat with a single slash. You held him down until he stopped struggling, carefully able to do the same to one more before you were noticed, and the alarm was raised. Unfortunately the one who raised the alarm wasn’t given time to grab his weapon, as you had gone for his legs and when he screamed out in pain, the eyes, and then the throat. You heard the arrow notch and immediately turned.

“I’ve got you dead to rights, elf.” You noticed the scroll on his hip, and lunged, sinking your twin blades into his throat as he let go. At such short range, you felt the arrow go all the way through, lodging in your body. “Let’s see how poison treats you, elf.”

“Better than death will treat you!” You snarled, decapitating him, and grabbed the scroll. You pocketed your blades and slid the scroll into your empty sheath in your boot. You found your sword and belted it against your waist, hoisting Nestadion to your shoulders and crossing the river so that it lay on your right hand side, going North. You saw no sign of horses and therefore had to go on foot.

It was nothing less than agonizing. Your wounds stung with every movement but you had no choice but to keep moving, summoning every bit of strength, every bit of spite you had to keep going.  _ We are almost home. We are almost home. _ You would never again invite death as much as you had with those humans. Taunting them was a mistake you would not make again. At least they were not smart enough, you hoped, to make Nestadion suffer for your insolence, though the consistent lack of response, other than breathing of course, made you worry. 

Your breath came labored when you stopped for a moment to survey the fords of the Bruinen, crossing where the water was shallow and pebbled, making for the Hidden Pass. You were certain there was a voice behind you, but you could not look back now. An arrow skewed off the rocky passage where you carefully slid down, narrowly avoiding another skewering. You tucked Nestadion away in a corner as your assailant slid down behind you, withdrew your sword as he nocked his arrow and surged forward, pinning him to the rock with your sword buried to its hilt, leaving him to die slowly as you pulled Nestadion to his feet, coaxing the unsteady warrior through the narrow passages. You could have cried when the Valley came into view, the both of you limping down to the dais of Elrond’s House.

“We are home,  _ gwador-nin.” _ You whispered. His head lolled against your shoulder.

“Home is a memory.” Nestadion breathed.

“I told you; I do not leave warriors behind. Just a few more steps.” You encouraged him softly. There were guards at the steps and Erestor not far behind him.

“ _ Mellyn-nin!” _ He gathered his robes in his hands, coming closer and realizing that you both were drastically injured.  _ “Boe enni nestron! Tolo!” _ Nestadion began to slip from your hands as healers sprinted for you both.

“He took... two... and maybe more.” You murmured. “He is fading!”

“You look horrible.” Erestor replied, taking your arm.

“Lindir?” Erestor hesitated.

“In the healing wards still. He took a nasty hit to the head. He hasn’t woken up.”

“For Valar’s sake!” For once, Erestor didn’t chide you. You looked like death. “Why can’t I just tell him I love him when I want to? No, we all have to be dying!” You snapped. Erestor cleared his throat softly. “Oh, this belongs to you... or Lindir.” You reached down to pull the other scroll from your boot.

“That’s actually mine.” Erestor murmured, taking it from you. “Lindir put his inside of his boot. Can’t imagine where he got the idea from.” If you had any energy at all, you would have laughed. But the sight of him, laying there in the wards, deathly still and paler than normal had you weak kneed and you couldn’t help but use your last burst of energy to propel yourself to his bedside, sliding to your knees and burying your head into the mattress beside him, taking his hand between your own. “Eru!” Erestor swore, staring at your back, a ratty mess of shredded flesh and infection. Almost all healers who weren’t working on Nestadion immediately surrounded you.

“Back off!” You snarled at them.

“Y/N... they are just trying to help.” Erestor couldn’t tear his eyes away. “Send for Elrond, Glorfindel. They’re needed here. Now!” Erestor barked. You couldn’t be coaxed away from Lindir. 

“I love you.” You whispered. “I won’t give up on you. Don’t you dare give up on me.” You murmured, kissing the silver band on his finger, kissing the back of his hand. “Come back to me,  _ meleth-nin, iesten _ .” You pleaded. “ _ Le melin.” _

_ I love you. _ You laid your head down beside him, closing your eyes, sinking into the soft mattress, sinking beneath his hand that you laid on your face. It was the last thing you remembered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mell-nin - My beloved  
> Caun/caun-nin - Commander/my commander  
> Meleth/meleth-nin - Love/my love  
> Hir - Lord  
> Tirn - Guardian  
> Naethen - I’m sorry

“ _Fuck.” The strings of a harp reverberated in your mind, clumsily, awkwardly._

_“I would usually have words for such language, but perhaps you would like me to try?” Erestor? Was that Erestor’s voice? The passing of hands, and quill worn fingers plucking out a sharp melody. You didn’t know he played._

_“Perhaps a little softer?”_

_“Why don’t you just call in other minstrels?”_

_“They wouldn’t understand.” Lindir? “It’s weird to have division among our people, but many of my fellow minstrels think that there’s no point in playing for warriors, as if they cannot understand it.”_

_“And yet they play for Elrond.”_

_“They have never seen that side of him.” It was definitely Lindir._

_“You could try a stationary harp one handed.”_

_“If it’s all the same to you... it’s not the same to me.”_

_“Do you not sing as well?”_

_“I can’t do that here! There are other people here!” You wished you could wake up and see him, because that would have brought a smile to your face. The pain threatened to swallow you again, and you tried to focus your attention on the conversation but it was just too overwhelming._

* * *

_“Meleth-nin?” You felt a hand press to your cheek. “I won’t give up on you. Don’t you dare give up on me.” Your words, you realized; he had heard your words! “I love you, most ardently.” Lindir breathed. “I know you’re here. I know you won’t give up. Rest well, mell-nin. Rest...” His voice blurred through your mind as the darkness overtook you once more._

* * *

_“Is it normal for Y/N to sleep this long?”_

_“They went through a traumatic ordeal.” Elrond’s voice. Some amount of anger bled through you. What hell had been in that scroll that was worth so much? That had nearly cost him a minstrel and two warriors? A hand, not Lindir’s hand, touched your cheek, and you forced yourself awake._

Your hand shot out and encircled his wrist, yanking the elf lord in close. “Was it worth it?!” You growled. “Was the reply you were given worth it?!”

“You have a right to be angry, _Caun_ Y/N.” Elrond remarked slowly.

“I’ve never been so grateful to see someone alive in my whole life.” You glanced to the bed across the way from you where Nestadion sat, wincing as a healer applied ointment to his healing wounds. 

“You’re awake.” You whispered.

“I feel like... mmm...” Nestadion glanced to Elrond.

“He’s heard it all. He’s a warrior himself.”

“I don’t know that side of him.” Nestadion whispered.

“But I do. Because I saw it. When I first came to Imladris, I saw it.” You replied. “You feel like hell, Nestadion.”

“And you look like it, _caun-nin._ ”

“But we are alive.” You murmured.

“And for that, I am grateful.” You hadn’t let go of him and so turned your attention back on Elrond.

“Tell me it was worth it!” You snarled. “I want to hear it from your lips that the message you received was almost worth the lives of two warriors and your second in command chief of staff! I doubt Erestor even escaped unscathed!”

“Erestor’s wound was minor. Lindir did not wake until you were in the Valley. Nestadion nearly died from a poison afflicting him, and you nearly succumbed to infection, requiring care at all hours of the day and night. I do not wish such fates on my kin... ever. The message was worth it. Nothing you did was in vain.” You slumped back to the bed, letting go of his wrist, which was sure to bruise. Elrond was a little more concerned about you; yes, Nestadion was lucky to be awake and sitting up, a little more serious than Elrond had ever seen him but still in good spirits. Your body, however, told a story of torture, and that was something that he had refrained from telling Lindir, out of uncertainty of how he would react. To see anger burning in your eyes could be a frightful indication of how you would go forward in your healing.

“Where’s Lindir?” You murmured quietly. “Where is my _meleth?_ I must see him.” You started to sit up when Elrond placed his hands on your shoulders.

“Stay down. You’re still greatly weakened and you should not be irritating your wounds as serious as they are.”

“When has that ever stopped me before?” You asked.

“Please.” Elrond murmured. You took in the Peredhel with some amount of uncertainty. There was sorrow in his eyes. He truly was remorseful for the events that had unfolded. “I will get Lindir.” You, for once, followed his commands, wincing as you rolled to your side, unwilling to spend much more time on your back than you had to.

“I’m surprised you’re not raring to get out into the field.” You remarked. Nestadion shook his head.

“Maybe Erestor is right. Maybe I do work too much. Death puts things into perspective.”

“Heh... it’s not the first time I’ve looked it in the eyes. But I certainly won’t taunt it again.”

“What did they do to you?” You shook your head. “I’ve seen your back. You screamed so loud and fought so hard against the healers that _Hir_ Glorfindel and _Tirn_ Gildor and his guardians had to hold you down.” You grit your jaw.

“Nestadion, I’m only going to tell you this once. I do not want to talk about it.” You whispered. And he did nothing more than bow his head and press his fist to his chest.

“Yes, Commander.” In that moment, Elrond returned with Lindir, and Erestor in surprisingly short pursuit.

“You’re awake.” Lindir breathed, coming to your bedside. His arm was wrapped in a sling but the color had returned to his cheeks and he was... crying? Tears rolled down his face.

“No, no, no...” You murmured, cupping his face, wiping away his tears. “ _Meleth-nin.”_

“It’s a good thing. They’re... happy tears.” Lindir whispered. You pressed your head to his, relishing in the close contact.

“I thought I’d lost you.” You whispered. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

“It wasn’t your fault, _meleth.”_ Lindir placed his hand on your cheek. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for this. I’m alright.”

“But you almost weren’t.”

“If you hadn’t been there at all, I would be...”

“No.” You pressed your finger to his lips. “Don’t go there...”

_Kiss me._ You heard it through the bond, overwhelmed by his offer. Other than the kiss you had shared in Minas Tirith, the two of you had never exchanged such an intimate touch. Kisses on the cheek, kisses on the hand or to each other’s silver rings, or to the inside of the wrist, but never... and he was not one for public affection. You felt your cheeks flame with heat, leaning forward to press your lips against his, capturing his with your own, soft but hungry.

“I love you.” You breathed out. “I never had the courage to say it before, but I love you. I love you.” You laughed softly.

“And I love you.” Lindir replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Ugh, get a room!” Nestadion teased. Lindir wrinkled his nose, shaking his head.

“I owe you one.” He tilted his head to the side. “Seriously, _meleth._ Those blades... they saved our lives. You saved our lives.” You murmured. “Thank you.”

“Shall I have them commission another pair?” Lindir asked.

“I would be obliged.” You whispered. “Be best if I never saw that pair again all things considered.” He sighed, pressing his head against yours again, closing his eyes and just breathing you in. What went unsaid was the love spilling from your chest, words you didn’t have, but let him feel. He gave you the brightest smile you’d ever seen out of him, the joy spilling into his spirit. “My Lindir.” You murmured.

“Yours. Always yours.” He replied. “But I should let you rest.”

“Don’t leave.” 

“I won’t.” Lindir promised.

“But you do need to move.” Elrond’s voice cut over your quiet conversation. “There are healers waiting for you. They’ve finished with Nestadion.”

“So when do I move out?” Nestadion asked.

“You both are on indefinite leave. Glorfindel can make up for the loss on the Southern borders. Gildor will just have to thin his guardians out a little more on the Northern borders.”

“Is that wise? I can... I’ll be fine.”

“Until you’re not.” Elrond remarked.

“Do as he says. The worst has yet to hit you.” You murmured. “He is my commander, and therefore your commander. Obey.”

“I had no intentions to not obey...” Nestadion wondered what you were talking about.

“Give him a private room with a healer on standby.” Elrond ordered quietly. There was only a small flurry of activity as healers helped you sit up, unwinding the bandages around your chest and back. You were insecure about your nakedness in front of Lindir, heat coming to your cheeks as you covered up, but he simply chose to sit in front of you, averting his eyes. Interestingly enough, his hair was unbraided, though you guessed that he wouldn’t have been able to maneuver that with a broken arm, and you sank your fingers into his hair, following methodical movements.

“Stars alive.” Erestor whispered.

“This is not good.” Elrond murmured, his hands touching against your back. You stiffened at the touch for a moment, your fingers tightening so much in Lindir’s hair that he yelped. “Painful?” You forced yourself to relax. But then Elrond’s fingers followed the first line, the second line, and the deepest one yet, and you had whipped around in a second, your hand on his throat. “Is it painful?” His gaze never wavered, never showed fear, only sympathy. “You won’t heal like this. You’re angry. You have a right to be. Hate me, if it makes you feel better, but I won’t let you fall down this path of revenge.”

“I don’t want revenge. I want to go home.”

“You are home.” Elrond murmured. “Unless you’d like to go...”

“NO!” Your fingers tightened around his throat.

“You need to talk about it.” He remained calm.

“Why? So you can pity me?”

“So Ecthelion and I can correspond and catch the men responsible for it.”

“Why bother? They’re dead.” You growled.

“You think it was an isolated attack?” Elrond asked. “I don’t see why one would have followed you to the Hidden Pass if they didn’t want you dead.”

“They didn’t want me dead. They wanted _you._ They thought I had answers about the cryptic message sealed in that scroll, and they were willing to torture me to get it.” Your thumb pressed into his jugular uncomfortably.

“But you do not break easily.”

“Neither did Nestadion, for we know our duty, even if it costs us our lives. I am not a creature to be broken, to be tamed. You will kill me before I break my oath of loyalty.”

“That much has been seen, and I am grateful for it. It is why you will remain on indefinite leave until you speak of it, whether you speak of it to Nestadion, to me, to Glorfindel, to Erestor, or to your _meleth._ I will not send you back into the field until I am confident that you will not perish out there. That is my oath to you.” Elrond murmured. “And I know that you understand it.” He touched his fingers to the scarring on your shoulder and collarbone. “I so swear it.” You bowed your head to him, removing your hand from his throat and placing it on the same spot on his shoulder.

“Yes, my lord.” You whispered.

“You know I’m not trying to hurt you.” Elrond replied. That had been uncomfortable in every way, but at least you hadn’t actually choked him out like you’d done when you’d first met him. “So turn around and let me do this.” You reluctantly followed his command, fingers knotting in the sheets when he pressed his fingers into your back again, working to heal the deeper wounds. It would be a lie to say that it didn’t sting, broken bits of metal working their way through flesh. You grit your teeth together, letting out a broken sob as you felt the wounds be reopened so that they could be cleaned again from infection and debris, each one a stark reminder of every slash that had cut across you. _“Naethen.”_ Elrond whispered, closing the wounds with Vilya, certain that no more impurities were within you.

“Can I go home?” Your voice was raw.

“Take this with you.” Elrond murmured, showing you the contents of the bag he was packing-- a chamomile elderberry tea mix, a birch bark and ginger tea mix, and an athelas based ointment. “Come get me, anytime Y/N, that you need me.” The feeling of relying on someone wasn’t really particularly your forte, but you slipped the tunic he handed you over your head and swallowed your pride, taking the bag from him. Lindir helped you stand and walk, letting you limp along. His feet turned to your talan and you hesitated.

“Y/N?”

“You’re my home, Lindir. I want to go home with you.” Lindir flushed a bright pink. It was true that you had shared his talan on occasion, but you had never professed that you actually wanted to live with him.

“Are you certain?” Lindir asked.

“I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to go back there.” You whined quietly. “I don’t want that life right now.”

“Then what is mine is yours.” Lindir murmured, turning to Elrond’s House and finding his talan at the Northern end. He ushered you inside and you immediately went to bed, sinking into the soft plush. It wasn’t long before he joined you with a book, and you laid your head in his lap, listening to him. He was aware of the importance of routine to you, and you seemed like you needed comfort, so that was exactly what he planned to give you. It wasn’t long before you were dozing against him either.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meleth - Love  
> Hanar - Brother

You were stubborn, relentlessly so, but you also had no way to treat your own wounds. You warmed the water as hot as you could stand it, sinking into it with a hiss of pain and just sitting in the bath until you could move again, washing out your hair and pinning it up, focusing on cleaning around your new scars gently before giving up and letting Lindir help. To his credit, he didn’t ask questions, only doing what you asked of him and nothing more. 

You learned how to get comfortable in his presence, and often followed him in his day to day work. Then the nightmares hit, and you tied yourself to the bedpost and spent the night on your knees. The horror in Lindir’s voice was apparent when he found you like that in the morning, asleep and bowed to the post of his bed, your hands clasped and bound around it. He could see the indents from where your nails had dug in.

“Did you do this... to yourself?” He asked softly, touching your shoulder.

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” You whispered. “I had a nightmare.”

“Does the tea not help?” Lindir asked. “Elrond said...”

“I know what he said.” You were stiff and sore from being in the same position all night, but at least you hadn’t lashed out at Lindir.

“This... can’t be right. Do you want me to get him?”

“No. This is warrior training. If you know you cannot refrain from it, you must bind yourself until it passes.”

“You’re torturing yourself.” A shiver ran through your form.  _ Torture. _ The word hung heavy in the air for you. “Is this still Galadhrim warrior training? To be bound to a post until... until what?”

“Until you temper yourself.”

“Are all Galadhrim trained like this?” You blinked. You couldn’t ever remember a time when you weren’t being tempered. Legandir wasn’t like you. Legandir obeyed. You had thought it was barbaric, but there was a reason that Galadhrim soldiers were elite, and surely this was just a consequence of it, and for that reason you had endured it. You bowed your head to your chest.

“You can get Elrond.” You murmured and he was gone, sprinting out the door, not even bothering with robes, simply in an undershirt and leggings, which was uncharacteristic of Lindir. And you remained that way until the stampede of feet was heard again.

Elrond hmed quietly. “Lindir explained.” He knelt to your side. “Would you like to offer more? He thinks what you’re doing is torture.”

“So he’s made clear.” You replied. “This is how Galadhrim are tempered. Those of us who need tempering anyways.”

“Celeborn tied you to a post?”

“It’s not Celeborn’s rules. It’s Galadhrim.”

“Who have existed as long as he has.” Elrond murmured. “Although I have always understood that the Galadhrim are Lady Galadriel’s to wield.”

“They are. But she does not partake in the creation of them. I think this is barbaric; I always have, but I wanted to be a Captain so I endured it. And honestly, it’s kept me from lashing out at Lindir. I had a nightmare.”

“And so put yourself into it. By tying yourself to a post. Listen, I’ve seen some horrible things in my lifetime. I’ve seen your injuries before. They had to have tied you to a post. They wouldn’t have dared to hold you down, not with someone wielding a whip. You’re going to have to break out of your Galadhrim training.”

“It’s how I survived.”

“But it’s not doing you any good here.” Elrond untied your hands, noting the way the rope had dug into your wrists.

“I don’t know how to do what you’re asking of me.” You admitted softly. “I don’t know any other way to cope.” He took the liniment off the desk, returning to your side and opening the tin, spreading it over your wrists, wrapping them in bandages.

“May I suggest working your  _ meleth?” _

“I don’t want to hurt Lindir.”

“I know. But you’re not doing him any favors by tying yourself to the bedpost, by hurting silently. Wake him up, and take a walk, or do whatever relaxes you. Read a book or... talk about it. It won’t kill you. It won’t kill him either.”

“I don’t want...”

“You seek to shield him. Remember, he’s not just a minstrel, that I put him in second of command after Erestor for a reason. He has his strengths, and it’s okay... to let those strengths fill in for your weakness. It’s okay to be weak. You’ve suffered; I don’t want you to suffer it endlessly. I want you to heal from it.” Elrond murmured. “I will put you on a boat to Valinor if you cannot be healed. I don’t want to, because I don’t want to separate you. I find that cruel.” You swallowed hard, looking to Lindir and needing to take his hand, leaning against him as he took a seat beside you. “Share your fea. I know you do it.”

“And give him nightmares too?”

“Are you not courting? Do you not believe that you will marry him?” You flushed, heat coming to your cheeks. “Can he not bear your burdens?”

“I do not wish them upon him.” You whispered. Elrond shook his head.

“What about Legandir?”

“What about my brother?”

“Do you think he could help?” Elrond asked.

“Legandir is Celeborn and Galadriel’s personal guard, chief of the Galadhrim. If everything you are trying to break me out of is true, then he would probably cause more harm than good.”

“He is family. You would be surprised, I think. His blood comes first.” An image of Legandir, screaming out in rage as the Galadhrim captains held you down flashed into your mind.

_ “Hanar.” _ You murmured. You shivered, pressing your palm into your scarred mark.

“Does that still bother you?” Elrond asked.

“One learns to ignore it.” You replied. 

“That is...”

“If you are going to say, not a healthy coping strategy, I am aware.” Elrond raised an eyebrow at you. You rolled your eyes, tugging the tunic down to reveal the scarring. He shook his head. 

“I don’t understand. It’s been centuries. It should have healed by now.”

“Is that?” Lindir asked, reaching for it when your eyes flashed in warning, and he jerked his hand back. He had felt the warning run through his fea, even though you might not have been trying to impart it. You covered it with your hand; baring it in front of Lindir made you feel vulnerable. “You said you trusted me, and I told you I would never do anything to betray that trust.”

“I’m vulnerable, Lindir.” The words spilled unchecked. “I’m scared.”

“As if I would run away?” Lindir asked.

“No.” You looked away. “As if you would take advantage of it.”

“You know I’m not like that.”

“That doesn’t lessen the fear!” 

“Can I see it? Can I touch it?” Lindir asked quietly. You gave him no reply but let him remove your hand, his fingers a gentle touch around the red scarring, sending shivers up and down your spine, sending unusual feelings through you. You watched, mouth dry, as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to it softly, just barely grazing across your skin.

“Ah, ah... you cannot keep doing that.”

“Is it painful?” Lindir asked.

“No.” You flushed. “It... does things to me.” Elrond snorted, for once losing his composure.

“Sorry.” You were completely nonplussed for a whole minute and then Lindir blushed, and you understood what Elrond had taken it for.

“No, not like that!” Was it like that though? You weren’t entirely sure.

“Well if you decide that it would be nice to see your brother again, let me know. Alternatively, come. see. me.” Elrond gave you a pointed look. “Lindir, you have the day off.”

“My lord, I...”

“Don’t bother arguing it. My mind is made up. Spend some time with your  _ meleth. _ I think they could use it.” Elrond stood, taking his leave. You leaned forward, burying your head against Lindir’s chest. He wrapped his arms around you, being wary of his newly healed arm and pulled you close.

“I’m sorry.” Lindir whispered.

“It’s not your fault.” You murmured. “They... wanted information from me that I didn’t have, that I didn’t know. So they... tied me a post and... they had a whip, something like a bullwhip, and they...” You grabbed onto his shirt, seeking his comfort, feeling every sting of the whip. “When they were done, they left me there until morning. I told them I didn’t have answers... but I also think I invited them. I thought they were... not as cruel as they were. They held me beneath the Bruinen until I could not breathe, and showed no mercy. I do not know how long I endured it, just that it was nightfall when I woke again. They... overlooked my ear cuffs as decoration, so I dislocated my shoulder, this one,” You tapped your scarring, “And wiggled loose, untying my bonds, and using the blades to, oh, you probably don’t want to hear that.”

“It’s alright.” Lindir murmured.

“They’re only good for one of two things, the throat and the eyes. I was able to kill two, before an alarm was raised. Then another, but the archer was awake by then.” You guided his hand to the puncture mark on your torso. “And at short range, it went all the way through. Once he was gone, I found my sword and took Nestadion on my shoulders, no horses in sight, and made the rest of the journey on foot. I was pursued... and left him to die in the Hidden Pass. I vaguely remember coming into the Valley, just seeing you there, lifeless. I thought I’d lost you.” You breathed.

“I heard you.” Lindir murmured quietly, pulling back to cup your face in his hands. “I heard every word you said to me. I... also watched you fight the healers even unconscious. Nestadion went white as a sheet. You called for your brother when Glorfindel and Gildor held you down. I don’t think you knew what was happening.”

“The last time I was held down like that I was being cast out of the Galadhrim. Legandir, he was there, screaming in horror at what was happening. They held him down; I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t even get to him.”

“Is Legandir your younger brother?” Lindir asked. “Are you the eldest?” You nodded. Lindir stood, something alight in his eyes. “Come. I think there's something you should see. There’s a book of Galadhrim history in the library if I remember correctly.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Muin-nin - My dear  
> Adar-nin - My Father  
> Hest - Captain  
> Nan Belain - By the Valar  
> Hir/hir-nin - Lord/my lord  
> Tirn - Guardian  
> Meleth - Love  
> Caun-nin - My commander  
> Le hannon - Thank you

Lindir tugged you to your feet and the both of you trekked across Imladris, with little care of being dressed in bare basics, to the libraries of Elrond’s house, where Lindir, with some help from Erestor, found the book of Galadhrim history and establishment.

“Established by Celeborn as a wedding gift for his wife...” Lindir murmured, flipping through the pages. “Valar, they embellish the training process, don’t they?”

“Likely written by one of the Galadhrim.” You replied.

“All first-borns drafted no matter sex or status, ensuring that all families are provided for via Galadhrim base salary, although rank determines pay further. Conscripted into service upon reaching adulthood.” Lindir frowned. “They don’t give you an option?”

“No. It’s not a lie when I say it’s all I’ve ever known.”

“Ew.” Erestor remarked, now quite invested in the conversation. “Sorry.” He peeked out from behind a row of books. 

“It’s a public place.” You murmured.

“Rank is signified by the presentation of a red cape for marchwardens, circlets for the marchwarden captains, or a purple cape for the Chief of the Galadhrim. Unique pins may also denote one’s rank in relation to their position guarding the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood.”

“This is Legandir’s pin.” You pointed to one of the pictures, a darker crafted pin that would have set well with the deep purple of his cape. Lindir continued to scan the text, flipping through the pages. “Holy...”

“Oaths.” Erestor corrected immediately.

“Would you stop hiding and get over here?” You murmured, patting the chaise beside you. Erestor obliged, taking a seat as you pointed to the drawing. “Who wrote this? This is accurate. There aren’t many who have been cast out of the Galadhrim, and even fewer who have been given this mark.”

“This is... handwritten.” Lindir remarked. “The rest of this book... the back cover was torn off and this was bound to it. ‘ _ Barbaric Practices of the Galadhrim-- the story that no one will tell for their loyalties have bought.’ _ I know this writing.” He jumped up. “I know this writing. Hold on.” Lindir vanished if but for a moment, pulling Elrond from a council with Glorfindel and Gildor.

“You know this writing.” Lindir presented Elrond with the book. Elrond frowned, deep lines etching across his face. He examined the book, seeing where it had been rebound, and tucked his fingers into the back flap of the book, pulling out a letter.

_ Muin-nin Elrond, _

_ It is time you knew the truth of my family. I pray it will not make you hate me. I was never the oldest. I had a brother, Celebhir, a Captain of the Galadhrim. You wouldn’t have liked him; he was just like my father in many ways that now lie dormant beneath the surface, for they were not acceptable to common society. I adored him, for the longest time, until he showed his true colors as a Captain, and thus exposed me to the corruption that lies between Adar-nin and the Galadhrim. I know the Lorien elf who came to you, begging you to hear them out. Their name is Y/N-- a warrior that my father has deemed unable to be tempered. They were in patrol with Celebhir, when he decided to throw them to the wolves. They challenged him in combat as they saw his actions were wrong, defeated him, led the patrol to safety, and threw Celebhir to my father’s feet, demanding justice. Instead they were marked and cast out of the Galadhrim. It has opened my eyes to the cruel practices that my father has instituted within our military. I hope that one day you will read this and I can know that my brother and Y/N’s sacrifice has not been in vain. Celebhir saw the error of his ways when my father cast him out and so explained everything to me, which is written here. He took his life not long after. _

“What?” Elrond’s voice was quiet, livid.

_ I hope that Y/N will fare better under your care. If we marry, if we wed, muin-nin, we cannot let our children be raised under my realm’s rules. You must understand. I implore you to understand. With love, Celebrian. _

Elrond glanced up, his face set in stone. “Erestor.”

“My lord.”

“Send word to Lorien for Arwen to come home.” Elrond said simply, his voice cool. “Now.”

“Yes, my lord.” Erestor vanished, seeing something... a little frightening in Elrond’s eyes. He returned shortly after with a letter requiring Elrond’s signature and sent it off via a scout on horseback, returning to the chaise with you and Lindir. Elrond still held the book and the letter that he’d pulled from the back cover.

“This changes things.” Elrond murmured. “This letter is from my wife, who also wrote the rest of the book. What do you know about an ellon named Celebhir?”

“ _ Hest _ Celebhir.” You whispered softly. “I knew that the same practice was applied to him, and he was cast out as well.”

“He was the oldest, and thereby drafted by Celeborn’s rules.” Lindir started to put the pieces together.

“Made a Captain of the Galadhrim, but was cast out after the fight and never heard from again.” You supplied.

“Broke down to his sister and revealed all the dirty secrets of the Galadhrim which she put into this book.” Elrond finished. “And committed suicide shortly after, which apparently was covered up. I never even knew they had a son.”

“Celebhir was  _ their son?!” _ You asked. “That’s... that’s horrible.”

“I can imagine from the tone of the letter that perhaps Celebrian found him.” Elrond murmured.

“And... that’s worse.” Lindir murmured.

“He was given the same mark you were? This?” Elrond tapped the drawing.

“That I’m aware of.” Elrond flipped the page, looking at the deconstructed drawing, runes he realized, runes written by an enchanted weapon. Runes that disallowed healing spells, runes that caused physical pain upon the body whenever an injury was inflicted, runes that could warp the mind. He continued to read, the scowl getting deeper before he slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the chaise.

“ _ Nan Belain! _ Get Morroch!” Elrond snarled at Erestor. Erestor jumped into action as Elrond stalked from the room. You and Lindir followed, book in hand, as he barked orders. “ _ Hir _ Glorfindel, with me!  _ Tirn  _ Gildor, take some of the marchwarden captains and spread them out over Imladris! Y/N, Lindir...” His eyes softened for a moment as he swept into his studies, Lindir helping him into armor.

“You’re going to confront him, aren’t you?” You asked.

“He’s not getting away with it. He’s not going to act like this. I will bring him to his king if he does not concede!” Thranduil. You had personally never met the King, and didn’t know many who had. “I do not ask you to come with me, but you may be the last one remaining with that kind of mark. Perhaps we can find a way to take it off.”

You glanced between Elrond and Lindir. “I...”

“You should go.” Lindir murmured. “I’ll be safe here. I’ll even stay with Erestor.” You pulled him into your arms, hugging him tightly.

“Let me get changed.”

“I’ll meet you at the gates.” Elrond replied, taking the book from Lindir. You sprinted to your talan, throwing on a proper tunic and leggings to pad your Imladris armor, slipping into your boots and mail, into your armor and helmet, grabbing the weapons that had newly been provided for, hesitating over the ear cuffs before deciding against them with the helmet. You met Elrond at the gates where Glorfindel was also just about to mount his horse and took the flagged spear from Erestor.

“Thank you. Take care of my  _ meleth _ .”

“Come back in one piece.” Erestor murmured. “ _ Suil vain: fair winds.” _ You nodded to him, falling in place behind Elrond as you mounted your horse and headed out onto the mountain paths, not far behind the mounted scout. The journey was silent. Elrond had nothing to say to you, but he was boiling over with things to say to Celeborn. When you caught up with the scout, Elrond redirected him over the mountain pass with an order to standby on his command. You didn’t stop to rest; you didn’t stop until you were reaching the borders of Lorien. You hissed out between your teeth as you passed across the border, pressing a gloved hand to your shoulder. Glorfindel edged in a little closer to you, offering you his hand.

“I...”

“I know you’re courting Lindir. Think of it as nothing more than a gesture among friends.” He murmured. You nodded, taking his hand for a moment, squeezing until the pain slightly subsided, and letting go. “Better me than your horse.”

“Fair. Thank you.” Glorfindel nodded.

“I haven’t seen him like this in a long time.”

“Yeah, he’s pissed.” You muttered. “Sorry.”

“No, no, no, you work with the bundle of joy Nestadion; I understand.” You shook your head at him. That wasn’t why. It was just being here, feeling the eyes on you. It wasn’t long before Legandir was among them, alongside your horse and using the pommel to pull himself astride your mount.

“What are you doing here?”

“What I should have done a long time ago.” Legandir murmured. “I’m here to stand at your side as your brother.” He was absent the purple cloak and pin, but still carried his weapons.

“Legandir, it’s not worth your career.”

“Of course it is. You’re my kin.” You let out choked breath, pressing your head to his back, relishing in the warmth beneath his robes. “Just sorry that it took so long for me to see it.”

“Apology accepted, brother.” You murmured, wrapping your arms around him. He took one of your hands in his own, and guided your horse with the other to the stables of Caras Galadhon. Your party dismounted and you winced, bearing obvious discomfort. The weight of the armor was heavy on the still tender flesh of your back.

“Do you need respite?” Elrond’s voice could have cut steel but for once, you knew it wasn’t directed at you. 

“No,  _ caun-nin _ .” You murmured. Elrond turned, pressing his hand to your shoulder. “Ok, ok, ok... don’t do that.” You grimaced.

“Apologies.” He replied. “I meant you no harm, just reminding you, reminding myself, of an oath I took a long time ago.” You bowed your head to him. When you had first come to the realm of Imladris, you had been wild, in pain both physically and mentally. When Elrond had broken through to you, past your story, past who you were and how you’d been raised, and past the pain, he’d promised that as the leader of his realm, he would do anything and everything in his power to protect the citizens of his realm. From his second in command to the marchwardens and their captains, from every last soldier that pledged themselves to his army to every last elfling and human child both who was found or given to family, from the mountains towering tall to the Fords of the Bruinen, he would be the Lord of Imladris; he would not back away from that responsibility now, even if it meant war between the realms. He cupped your chin firmly, bringing your eyes to his own.

“Remember that there is an army behind you. Remember that there are people willing to follow you into battle, people that trust you, people that have put their faith in you. I put my faith in you; and you have not let me down.” Elrond murmured. You blinked away the tears.

“ _ Le hannon, hir-nin _ .” You whispered, placing your hand on his shoulder, holding him there for a moment more before you both let go. He gestured, taking the book from his saddlebags, and leading the way up the steps of the city. 


End file.
